


Glasses

by RickishMorty



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Augmented Reality, Blow Jobs, Bottom Morty Smith, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Lies, M/M, Penis Size, RaM Mini Bang 2020, Rick Being an Asshole, Sexual Fantasy, Size Difference, Technological Kink, Technology, Top Rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:34:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27066475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RickishMorty/pseuds/RickishMorty
Summary: Rick and Morty haven't spoken to each other for days: the grandson asked his grandfather for an invention to fulfill his sexual fantasies towards Jessica and Rick refused. The truth is, he's jealous as hell.When Rick decides to please him for personal purposes, he will be very surprised.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 8
Kudos: 150
Collections: RaM Mini Bang 2020





	Glasses

**Author's Note:**

> Fanfiction created for the RNM Mini Bang Event!  
> Inside the story are present the arts of Stitches ( https://twitter.com/innstitches ), KowaiSnail ( https://twitter.com/KowaiSnail ) and SabraCollective ( https://twitter.com/SabraCollective )  
> Thank you for this collective experience!

It was not unusual to see Rick bent over the work surface, concentrated, with the vein on his temple throbbing nervously and a drop of sweat beading on his forehead. This was generally how the best adventures began: a new invention.

It was rare enough, however, that Rick and Morty didn't go around unknown dimensions and planets for more than two days in a row. Grandfather and grandson had been at home for almost a week and the atmosphere at home was ambivalent: relaxed for Beth, who had her father finally at home to pamper, and unbearably tense for Jerry, who had to undergo torture of his father-in-law more often than it didn't already happen usually. Summer was, as always, a wild card: she didn't care much, although she noticed that something was wrong.

And indeed, it was so.

Rick and Morty had not spoken for days, stubbornly distant, in their rooms, one studying, the other creating. The rare moments of conviviality, namely lunches and dinners, were filled with the stories of the days of Summer and Beth, and by the timid and rambunctious questions of Jerry. But those two were silent as stones, busy only asking for oil, salt or water from one side of the table to the other. It was also not uncommon for Rick to be missing at lunch or dinner, only advising Beth that he would take a tour with the portalgun.

Summer had tried to investigate with Morty, trying to ask him why they had quarreled and what had been the topic of discussion that had created such a chill in the house. Morty continued to study or have breakfast, without paying attention, stubbornly concentrated in doing what he was doing: he was becoming more and more cocky, stubborn and conceited. More and more Rick.

But unlike Rick, he didn't meditate revenge.

Rick, when he lit the blowtorch to weld two different pieces, was surrounded by a sort of blue helmet, not physical, but transparent, as if they were plasma rays that defended him from sparks.

He had a lucid, cold, relentless anger. The discussion of days before had not gone down to him, nor had his anger subsided, concentrating instead in his hands, capable of every ruin and destruction, but also of every wonder.

Strange how sometimes the two intersected when it came to Rick.

"He didn't learn a fucking shit ..."

Rick mumbled to himself, perhaps with more alcohol in his body than the firmness of his fingers showed.

The damned brat had learned nothing from Cronenberg's events. He had not yet understood that his desires and selfish needs could be a danger to the whole planet. That incident that led them to change their dimensions had taught him absolutely nothing.

_"Rick, c-can I have s-some invention to make Je-Jessica fall in love?"_

_"Do you have an insane taste for the Apocalypse, M-Morty?"_

_"No, I-I just want-"_

_"What? Don't you like this family? Do you want to change it again? "_

_"What-what's that got to do with it, R-Rick, t-that was an accident and y-you caused it!"_

_"WHAT?! Lil fucking shit, you didn't learn a single fuck from what happened! "_

_"I-it’s you who whe-when I ask you s-something you d-do it wrong!"_

_**Wrong**_.

The discussion had lasted a little longer, between shouts and accusations from one side to the other, which had ended in a door slammed by Morty and in a series of insults by Rick.

It could (could) be simply a discussion between grandfather and grandson, certainly more colorful than normal, in which the older one was pissed off because the younger one had not made his own the moral of a story that ended badly.

It could have been that way, had it not been for the fact that Rick was monstrously _jealous_.

The whole Cronenberg affair, that badly managed perfume, their change of dimension, that terrifying trauma imprinted on Morty's mind forever: everything had been planned and everything had served to make him permanently pass the desire to drool behind that redhead.

He didn't think he could ever ask for it, and with this insistence. That he had erased his memory too many times and Morty had forgotten that shock therapy?

No, impossible.

That boy was simply and unbearably cocky.

And spoiled.

Maybe it was also his fault that Morty allowed himself to behave like this, asking him anything he wanted. He did not satisfy him often, but when he did he was worth ten.

There was no way to give him a real chance to make Jessica fall in love with him. Obviously, he could do it, as he said earlier, it was a simple and banal hormonal question: it was enough to catch the right frequency of the other person to make her fall into his arms.

Obviously, Rick had no intention of doing it.

What he was planning under his expert and indefatigable hands, was nothing more than a contentment. Rick touched a lens with his fingertip, which did not seem to be made of glass, but of an incredibly particular crystal.

The fruit of his efforts were glasses capable of simulating an incredibly augmented reality; not one of those bullshit like Oculus. Those glasses were able to simulate not only a visual reality, but also a physical one: the sensations felt through one's imagination were absolutely real, palpable and realistic. Every touch, every sigh, every reaction, every lick: it was as if everything really happened. Rick had sold several in the past, earning us an avalanche of money: he was full of people who just wanted to escape from their shitty life, taking refuge in a dream. Oh God, to tell the truth even those who already had the life of their dreams, had willingly exchanged it with a fictitious, but absolutely perfect and tailor-made one.

He had stopped building them since all the other Ricks started doing it, stealing the market from him. They always came late, but then they were annoying and numerous like flies.

With those glasses he would have known Morty's roughest fantasies, having him totally in his hand: he could blackmail him (the glasses also had a recording device), he could tease him, he could ...

He could touch him.

Rick narrowed his eyes slightly, enjoying the increased flow of blood that suddenly came to swell his pants. He stopped for a moment, biting his lower lip in imagining Morty with those glasses on, totally helpless, unaware and excited. He imagined him naked, perhaps, on the bed, sweaty, prey to moans and even more acute gasps than his voice was normally. He would surely have waited for the family (including Rick) to go out, to be alone, in his privacy in which to enjoy that new gift: with the sexual robot he hadn't had many problems, but maybe he had learned to be more discreet.

Any discretion, however, was not enough to be safe: his eyes would have enjoyed the whole show, from start to finish.

Rick grinned, before stepping back on the chair and admiring his work, finally finished: he had improved them since the last time, making them more comfortable and less bulky. If previously they were a helmet with a visor, now they were just simple darkening glasses, which allowed to move naturally on the bed, adopting the most different positions.

Rick pursed his lips: if Morty had thought of Jessica, he certainly would not have adopted the positions he would have liked. But seeing him try orgasms for his invention and following his strategy, was enough to make him become hard.

Rick took the portalgun out of his pocket, opening a passage and putting his hand in it without looking at it, still with his eyes on his glasses. Within an instant, he withdrew his arm, his hand clinging to Morty's wrist, who was thrown onto the floor next to him, taken aback.

"R-Rick! Wha-what the he- "

"I think I'm starting to spoil you too much, Morty."

Rick arched his unibrow, finally looking at his grandson on the ground, who looked at him almost offended by the violence with which he had been brought into the garage, without even a warning. He got to his feet, ready to face him with a look he had too often lately. Yes, he had probably spoiled him too much: that boy was becoming more and more presumptuous.

“Wha-what are you t-talking about, R-Rick? You-you can't ta-take me as if I were a package at your convenience, i-it's not fair, you-you are- "

Rick rolled his eyes, snorting loudly to make him stop complaining and passing his glasses, pressing them on his chest to silence him.

"Maybe these will make you stop doing the silence strike with me, lil shit."

Morty frowned, turning the invention over in his hands, with a questioning look.

"W-what’s thi-"

“Very high augmented reality, physical, sensory and emotional glasses. Since what you are asking for could lead to yet another dimension change, and we are running out of our chances, these w _eeeeurgh_ will perhaps manage to let you let off steam just enough to stop fucking bitching. "

Morty looked at him, blinking several times, a symptom of the fact that he hadn't understood what they were for. Rick sighed deeply, lowering his eyelids, gathering the patience he didn't have and never had.

"You can fuck Jessica, at least virtually."

Morty blushed violently, suddenly, opening his eyes wide and giving another jump at Rick's erection, who had even less patience than its owner.

As expected, Morty began to stutter even more.

“R-r-really, R-Rick? I-I m-mean ... You-you r-really b-build the-them f-for m-me? "

Rick smiled inwardly, before crossing his arms and bending his head as he watched his grandson.

"You think i’m such a monster, Morty?"

Morty's silence expressed tacit assent, which made Rick's mouth turn up.

"Go play, little pervert."

Morty smiled, his cheeks still burning: he hadn't seen him so excited since he started playing with that sex robot. He remembered well how he had gone to the dining room only in his underwear, sweaty and thirsty, draining a whole fruit juice with a giant smile, ready to start the umpteenth round. Rick hardly felt envy, but that day he had been envious of that piece of tin.

"O-ok!"

Morty tightened his glasses on his chest, turning to head for the stairs that led out of the garage. Rick cleared his throat controversially, making Morty turn back to him questioningly.

"You don't say anything to Grandpa ...?"

Morty immediately understood Rick's game, on the defensive for what he wanted him to say.

"Especially for being such a pain in the ass a whole week ...?"

Rick grinned, persuasive and provocative, with his hands in his pockets that managed to touch the erection covered by the lab coat. If Morty hadn't given up, he wouldn't have left the invention in his hands.

Morty turned back, looking down and with his tail between his legs, with little desire to do what Rick was forcing him to do.

The scientist enjoyed that contrite, unpunished expression, waiting.

What Rick really wanted was for Morty to kneel in front of him, taking him in his mouth, sucking him until his anger poured hot, copious in his throat.

But for now he would have been satisfied anyway.

Finally, Morty spoke: "I-I'm sorry ..."

"About what, Morty?"

"... F-for being a p-pain in the a-ass ..."

"And what else, Morty ...?" Rick urged ruthlessly.

Morty looked up and Rick saw in his eyes the strong temptation to respond in tone, starting to quarrel again, but the stakes were too high.

"... Tha-thanks, Rick ..."

The two stared at each other; one smiling, the other with a frown and a sort of pout.

"... Yo-you are the best."

Rick's cock jumped violently against his pants and the scientist had to appeal to all his concentration not to groan through gritted teeth.

"You can go, Morty."

Morty stood still for a moment, defeated in his having given way to Rick, to his control, to his ruthless and sadistic superiority. With one last glance, Morty ran up the stairs, away from Rick.

Or at least, so he believed.

Morty was sitting on the bed, his heart racing fast. He was almost regretting that he was unbearable and that he kept THAT face for a whole week, now that he had those glasses in his hands. He bit his lips, with an erection that began to annoy him, pressing against his pants. But it wasn't just for that invention that he held between his fingers.

Rick had _satisfied_ him.

He had _listened_ to him and, although contrary to the idea, he had still built what he asked, against all odds. Morty blushed, pressing his palms over his eyes, to drive those thoughts out of his head: he had asked for that invention for Jessica. Jessica. Not for others. For Jessica, a girl, a girl with boobs, his crush for years.

Not for…

Morty moaned sharply, stamping his feet against the floor, in a desperate attempt to distract himself, canceling those thoughts that crowded his mind like leeches.

"Morty! I go out!"

Jerry. He was the last one left at home: Beth was at work and Summer was at the beach with her friends. Only he and Rick were left at home on that summer day. But with Jerry out of the way, he could have dedicated himself to his new gift: after all, Rick knew he shouldn't disturb him, given what he had just given him.

"O-ok, dad! By-bye! "

"See you later!"

The sound of keys, the door slammed, then nothing more.

He was alone. In peace, more than anything else.

Biting his lips, Morty began to think obsessively about what he wanted to imagine, while putting his glasses on his face: boobs. Boobs. Boobs.

The glasses were extraordinarily light, although they remained perfectly close to the face. They looked like normal sunglasses, if it were not that they started talking, as they fit better on his face.

"Initialised mnemonic and emotional assimilation procedure".

Morty jumped, while blue writing appeared on the lenses and wireless micro-headphones detached themselves from the frame, going to position themselves in his ear, almost imperceptible.

"Relax and take the position of your preference to begin the experientialization."

"O-ok".

Morty lay on the bed, uncertain, swallowing again: he had no idea what position to take. He had never had sex. Might as well lie down and at least try to relax, right? It was automatic for him to close his eyes, to begin to imagine, but the glasses immediately transformed his sketched sexual fantasies into something incredibly real.

He thought it could be the school, the gym locker room, the science lab.

But no.

It was the garage.

Rick had heard Jerry come out and there was no doubt that Morty had started setting up the glasses. His computer, in fact, had connected to the device, starting to receive all the information and recording every single acquisition that the glasses had from Morty's mind and body.

As expected: rapid heart beat, increased blood flow to the lower abdomen, sweating. The little slut was tremendously horny. But what Rick hadn't foreseen, was the location where Morty would set his fantasies: the garage? Of all the places, he didn't believe he would choose the one most tied to their adventures to fuck Jessica.

Rick shrugged, just before he opened a vortex with the portalgun, which faced directly onto Morty's room. The concern he might hear was inconsistent: the headphones had totally isolated him from the world, to make the experience even more immersive.

Rick entered the gate just in time to NOT see how, why and WHO Morty had pictured himself with in the garage.

When Rick entered Morty's room, he was hit by two different thoughts: Morty moaning, who was constantly turning over on his bed, with his pants untied and already completely sweaty, was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. He was _needy_ , terribly needy and demanding of someone to take care of him. Immediately, he had the sudden and insane desire to spoil him again.

The second thought was annoying: the glasses were dark and the lenses prevented him from looking at his eyes, precluding his expression, which was certainly the best thing of all that show. Seeing Morty roll his eyes, looking up, absent, while enjoying, would have been the only thing he couldn't have enjoyed.

Rick grunted, before starting to unbuckle his belt too, to release the erection that was from before he was holding back and that was starting to hurt him. He approached Morty's bed, going to his feet, looking at his grandson completely lying in front of him. Rick could have activated the holographic feature of the glasses, in order to be able to watch his grandson’s fantasies as if he were in front of a match, but he had no intention of watching that redhead while masturbating with Morty in front.

"N-no…"

Rick arched his unibrow, as he lowered his boxers, making the big erection jump finally free, taking it in his hand. No? Was Morty one of those with noncon kink? Strange for a boy who was imagining himself fucking the girl of his dreams.

Rick stroked his entire length, holding back a hoarse moan, as he watched the glasses letting out tiny steel arms without Morty's knowledge, which enriched his experience, lowering his pants and boxers.

Morty tried to stop them, resisting.

"N-no!"

Those “no” were driving Rick crazy, who continued to masturbate in front of his grandson, tremendously eager to hear him say _no_ for different reasons: such as that he was too huge for him.

"N-no, Rick!"

Rick stopped immediately, widening his eyes, with his hand steady on the soaring erection, which continued to jump furiously.

What did he say?

"W-wait!"

Rick blinked several times, hearing that phrase again in his head, unable to understand it.

Did he say _his_ name?

Rick immediately felt his mouth dry: it certainly didn't take a genius to understand what was going on.

Morty's sexual fantasy was...

"Rick!"

Morty finally surrendered, letting the steel hands complete their work, stripping him and revealing for him an already extremely wet and throbbing erection.

Did Morty ... ask him for that invention to masturbate on him?

Rick took a deep breath, realizing that it had been holding his breath for a few seconds. He had to know. He had to have overwhelming proof.

Rick let go of his heavy erection which was so tense that he didn't need to be supported before taking a small remote control from his pocket, activating the holographic feature of the glasses. Immediately, a beam of light branched out from the frame, allowing Rick to see what Morty was imagining: he and Morty were in the garage, against the table. Rick was on top of him, his mouth flowing over his neck, kissing and biting him, playing with his skin between his teeth. His hands were undressing him, lowering his pants together with the boxers, while Morty held his hands weakly on his wrists, in an insecure attempt to stop him.

"What is it, lil slut? Are you going back now? "

_Lil slut._

No, he couldn't believe it.

Was this how Morty wanted to be called? From him, then?

It was not easy to displace Rick Sanchez, but Morty Smith had succeeded without even having the satisfaction of knowing it.

Rick was distracted by a high-pitched scream from Morty, who was clutching the sheets in his fingers, spasmodically: in the hologram, his imaginary version had just begun to masturbate Morty, squeezing his ass with his other hand, while continuing to torture his neck.

Rick did not know where to look, torn between the egocentrism of seeing how Morty imagined him in his most indecent dreams, and the desire to see HIS sexual fantasy that was _really_ wiggling in front of him.

He was starting to feel almost an intruder, though, and being jealous of himself (or one of his inventions) was something he hadn't happened to try yet.

And Morty was so _needy_ and small on that bed.

Rick licked his lips, returning to caress his erection with one hand, while with the other he approached the remote control to his mouth, whispering in a husky voice.

“Turn off autopilot. Remote control ".

With a grin, the remote opened and a tiny probe went to stick on Rick's temple, lighting up in blue.

"Match completed".

Giving control to Morty was something that had never happened and never would have happened. Already giving it to him for five minutes was making his hands itch, in the obsessive desire to take the lead, leading the game and that fantasy.

With Rick, Morty wasn't even free to dream about what he wanted.

The holographic faded and Morty frowned, confused, before Rick got on the bed, crawling towards him as he ran a large hand over his bare thigh, bringing his face closer to hims and resuming the positions they had in Morty’s mind. He squeezed his butt, holding an entire buttock with a single hand, sinking his fingers into the soft flesh while licking his neck, feeling the slightly salty taste from the sweat.

Morty shivered, unaware that Rick was real: those glasses made it possible to have no difference with reality, also acting at a neuronal level, modifying the information that the brain received. In a nutshell, Rick could do what he wanted with him, replacing himself in his dream, without Morty having the slightest conscience.

"Since when do you like to be called lil slut, lil shit?"

Morty arched his back when he felt their erections touch, lowering his face abruptly: in his dream he did not remember that Rick had opened his pants. He held his breath, looking at the hard and tense cock of Rick for the first time: this time it was his turn to have a dry mouth, learning about Rick's size. That expression made the scientist grin, who went to play with the lobe of his ear, satisfied: evidently in his fantasies Morty didn’t imagine him so huge. It was a day of surprises for both of them.

"R-Rick ... W-wait ..."

"What are you afraid of…?" Rick grinned, before lowering himself to his cheek, biting it: he had to be careful not to move his glasses. That could be the only thing that would ruin his plan; "We are in a dream, right ...?"

"B-but ..." Morty couldn't take his eyes off Rick's cock, and this was causing the man's erection to jump, feeding his egotism in an indecent way. Rick, on the other hand, couldn't take his eyes off his grandson’s face: sweaty, red, embarrassed and excited at the same time. But those glasses were driving him crazy: he NEED to look him in the eye. He had to see his terrified look as he realized that Rick was in front of him, really, and that he knew. KNEW how horny he was of him.

He was almost tempted to take off those stupid glasses, then erase his memory after fucking him. But no ... He wanted to enjoy Morty like that. Totally unconscious, unaware and perhaps even freer to enjoy those sensations, unaware of not being the only one who knows them.

Again, Rick was greedy, avid. But he had to resist… the stakes were too high.

"What is it, baby? It is too big…? Isn't that how you expected it ...? "

Rick grinned, still squeezing his ass, starting to insert his fingers into his slit, stroking the opening with his fingertips.

"Are you afraid it won't fit...?"

He had to hear it from his voice. From his lips.

Morty shook his head, while Rick went to probe his opening with his index finger, sliding only the first part of the phalanx inside him: he was very tight. Morty squeezed his arms, tighting his butt and trapping Rick’s fingers in his own cheeks.

“Y-yeah… I-it scares me, Rick. It’s he-huge ”.

Rick nearly came with those single words, forced to lower his eyelids and open his mouth to let go of a moan, as a squirt of precum was released onto Morty's stomach. Rick was so weak to adoration ... Even a sentence like that could be worth having satisfied Morty with those glasses.

Suddenly, Rick wanted to get rid of a doubt that every now and then came to him, although he was quite sure of the answer. Morty couldn't lie to him: what's the point of lying to a dream?

"Are you a virgin, M-Morty?" as he asked, Rick fully sank his finger inside him, feeling his anus tighten around him, while Morty continued to squeeze his arms, twisting his pelvis in that annoyance he wasn't used to, unable to tell if he liked it or not.

"Y-yes, R-Rick".

Incredible how that little boy could risk giving him an orgasm even just in words, with those intimate and hot confessions, said with that high-pitched, so innocent voice.

Rick put his free hand under his knee, pulling him further towards him and pulling himself up with his torso. His erection rubbed against Morty's in a noticeable difference in size as they wetted each other, both very aroused.

Morty covered his mouth with both hands while Rick went to tease him with a second finger, continuing to rub his cock against hims. The restrained moans of the grandson made the scientist turn up his mouth.

“What are you worried about, Morty? There's no one home".

The boy swallowed, arching his back as he felt a second finger enter him. He lowered his hand, clearing his mouth with a groan.

"The-there's Rick ..."

Quite right. Incredible how much science could make situations paradoxical. This is why he did not like time travel. This time, however, the paradox was fully enjoyable.

"And are you ashamed that he could hear you moan like this ...?"

Morty nodded, cheeks ablaze.

“Are you afraid he'll hear you calling him? Or that he wants to reach you, feeling you pant like the lil slut you are? "

Morty shook his head, turning his pelvis again to take those fingers inside him, feeling a third one, trying to feel as little pain as possible.

"He n-never would."

That sentence could easily be denied, given how swollen and wet Rick's cock was. What did he mean?

"Why?"

"He d-doesn’t care."

For a second, Rick felt soften: the insecurity and regret with which Morty was making that confession made him feel like an asshole. On the one hand, he was glad that Morty didn't understand the attraction he felt towards him. On the other hand, he was sure it was because he never complimented him, always treating him like shit. He bit his lip, before lowering himself back to his face and soft lips.

"I'm sure he does..."

Rick finally kissed Morty, coming out of him to fully enjoy that gesture that had (almost) nothing sexual, in a demonstration that would remain secret, that Morty would not have known. If Rick let himself go, it was only because he knew the boy wouldn't know it was true, real.

Or at least, so he believed.

As he kissed him, completely absorbed in those lips that he had been the first to dream of, he did not notice how Morty's tachycardia had worsened, becoming more unbearable in that intimate and meaningful moment, rather than when he had Rick's fingers inside him. .

Unsustainable, in fact.

Morty made a lightning-fast gesture, impossible to stop even if it had been planned, to interrupt that fantasy he wasn't ready for and that was getting too big for him. Too true and real, even though it wasn't even a little bit. He couldn't accept that his first time, his first kiss with Rick, even though extremely realistic, were fake.

Morty took off his glasses, expecting to find himself in his room and not in the garage, alone: he was only half right. He was in his room, but above him was Rick, still on his lips, with his hands creeping into his hair. Morty looked at him with wide eyes, while he felt their erections still one on top of the other, terribly and incredibly real.

...

What was going on?

Did the glasses still work even without wearing them? Or...

The moment Rick opened his eyes too, opening them wide, Morty knew he must have stopped his game, revealing his plan.

Incredible how many different sensations and thoughts stirred in his head, maddened: the anger at having been manipulated for the umpteenth time, the amazement and emotion in being reciprocated (?), the excitement in hearing that expert mouth, that hard cock, those hands on him.

He couldn't understand what emotion to win.

"M-Morty ..."

Morty watched him, while Rick just moved away from his lips: he knew him, he was quickly recalculating his whole strategy, trying to get out of it somehow. But how? The situation was totally unequivocal.

"... are you enjoying the experience? Rick made sure that even without g-glasses you can- "

"Oh, fuck you Rick!"

Anger won at first.

Morty was red, completely; his body temperature had reached a hallucinating peak as he felt his butt stimulated and slightly annoyed. The physical sensations were also absolutely real. Had Rick built those glasses to fuck him? Literally.

Rick was lost for a second in those eyes finally free from glasses, reading all those different sensations veiled by tears. He had wanted them so far, and now he almost didn't feel ready.

"Yo-you f-fooled me, pe-piece of shi-shi-"

"Oh yes? Was it I who made you dream of me, Morty, instead of Jessica's big boobs?" the scientist narrowed his eyes. At this point, better to lay it all to the line. Morty could accuse him, but he had to take responsibility.

"Or is it you who secretly imagines grandpa fucking you ...?" Rick said, before pressing his erection against his again, punitive.

Morty groaned, helpless towards his physical sensations, which along with his fantasies proved the overwhelming truth: he was terribly attracted to Rick. But apparently the reverse was also true.

"S-stop!"; Morty narrowed his eyes, pressing his hands to Rick’s chest to push him away, but it was all very hard to believe at that point.

Rick chuckled in a low, husky, throaty voice as he shook his head in denial. He ran his hand back down Morty's side, up to his thighs and then back to his butt, which he still couldn't believe he was holding. He lowered himself to his face, brushing his nose with his and finally looking him in the eye.

"You never realize your fortunes ... D-do you know how many people would pray to have their own fantasies, in the flesh (Rick moved his pelvis), in front of their eyes?" Morty's hands stopped pushing him away, while the boy was mesmerized by his gray eyes.

"Just like is happening to you ... _Lil slut_?" Rick smiled, maliciously hinting at the new petname he had discovered. Morty opened his eyes wide, blushing, if possible, even more: Rick had really witnessed everything from the start. When did he replace himself in his fantasy, getting in the way?

“You can even pretend it's still a dream, Morty… What do you know it's not? A fantasy within a fantasy. We have already experienced adventures like this ... "

Rick took his own cock in his free hand, positioning it in front of Morty's opening, made more elastic by the previous movement of the fingers. The boy moaned weakly, his legs weak and his penis jerking painfully.

"... Or you can stop it here".

Rick moved away with his body, rising with his torso and getting out of bed, quickly and carelessly, with a severe and detached expression on his face. Morty widened his eyes, immediately feeling the lack of that warmth on him. Of that cock on him. He also lifted himself onto his back, frowning.

"W-where are you going?"

Rick turned his back to the boy, adjusting his crumpled lab coat and shirt: "We played, now _beeeurgh_ , tha-that's it."

Morty began to sweat cold, swallowing with his dry mouth, his erection going crazy with pain and arousal.

"I don't think you wanna do it."

"No!"

Rick grinned mischievously as Morty unwittingly let himself be manipulated again, falling into his own trap: reverse psychology, hadn't they talked about that bullshit before?

Rick turned, looking at him over his shoulder: "No...?"

Morty said nothing more, looking at him with need, afraid however that he had made the wrong decision. Because he had certainly made a decision.

Rick finally turned, revealing his taut, soaring and wet cock to Morty: the boy looked at it with a sigh, moving his eyes from the erection to Rick's face, who smiled at him, provocatively.

"Prove it."

Morty nearly screwed him up again. What if it really was a fantasy within a fantasy, though? It was a Rick thing; it could be that one of his inventions worked like this. Why not?

And even if it wasn't… Why not?

Morty swallowed, before moving closer to Rick, looking at the man's cockhead as he approached with his face, trembling. As he figured out how to act, Rick's cock jerked in excitement, hitting his lips and joining them with a thread of Rick's precum. The scientist hissed, raising a hand and refraining from wrapping it in Morty's hair, sweeping his mouth.

Encouraged by that need that Rick showed towards him, Morty suddenly felt a surge of self-confidence, corroborated by a sort of unconsciousness: he approached again, licking Rick's cockhead and tasting a man for the first time.

Rick tilted his face back, moaning, while Morty gained more courage, starting to take it in his mouth slowly, moistening it.

"You better wet it as much as possible, baby ..."

Morty squeezed his legs, leaning on the bed towards him: he knew what that advice meant, and it was always best to follow Rick's advice.

Morty closed his eyes, too embarrassed to watch, as he took Rick completely in his mouth, in his throat, softly, not to choke. How could he get inside him if he barely fit in his mouth?

Rick rolled his eyes, his hand going to weave into Morty's brown hair, squeezing them slowly: "Good job, my lil slut ..."

That petname made Morty moan, infusing Rick's cock with vibrations that sent the scientist shivering. Rick began to guide the movements, again in control of the situation, sweeping his mouth slowly, enjoying every inch that went out and in from Morty.

Suddenly, to avoid losing control (which he liked so much), Rick came out of him, completely wet with Morty's saliva: to do so he squeezed the boy's hair, moving his head back and seeing him frown. How many things still to teach him... To show him ...

"How was your dream supposed to continue?" Rick asked, his eyes watery with desire.

"W-what?"

"How would I have fucked you?"

Morty's eyes widened, blushing conspicuously at Rick's blatant words.

"H-how?"

"In-which-position-was-I-supposed-to-fuck-you".

Morty had understood correctly, but that didn't stop him from looking down in embarrassment.

For a moment he thought to lie, inventing something extravagant, absurd, more "expert" and mature. But what's the point?

"N-normal ... I-I mean, the way we were be-befo-"

Rick didn't even let him finish, pushing him onto the mattress and getting back on top of him, locking a wrist next to his face on the pillow. Morty held his breath as he saw that predatory gaze staring at him, hungry.

He had no idea he could attract him so much. Rick never care about anything.

The man grabbed both of his thighs, drawing him back towards him, while Morty had his hands on his chest, like a puppy.

Rick lowered to his lips, making him a promise he was going to keep.

"I promise you'll never need those glasses again, Morty..."

Morty shivered.

Rick was right.

Rick was always right.

**Author's Note:**

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